


Panis Angelicus

by Lunasong365



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Armageddon (future reference), Baking, Bible, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasong365/pseuds/Lunasong365
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Angel of the Lord has been tasked to bake bread, perhaps for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panis Angelicus

“Whatcha doin’?” asks Crowley of the angel, walking unannounced into Aziraphale’s humble rent-a-dwelling.

Startled, Aziraphale sucks his sore thumb and tries not to swear. He’s surrounded by a variety of legumes and grain, and has just burnt his hand on the heated stone slab he‘s freshly pulled out of the oven. He’s hot, he’s dusted in flour, and the last thing he needs is a sarcastic demon looking over his shoulder. He scrapes the misshaped half-baked result of his latest experiment onto the oven coals, which briefly flare, then settle back to ash-covered fuel.

“I’m _trying_ to come up with a nutritious, yet palatable bread recipe,” he explains, with just a touch of exasperation. “Our prophet Elijah’s really done it this time – had all the prophets of Ba’al killed. Understandably, Queen Jezebel’s a bit miffed and now Elijah’s on the run, hiding out in the desert to save his skin. I’m supposed to bring him something to eat and drink.”

“Tit for tat,” responds Crowley, moving a jar of grain aside to sit down at the low table. “Jezebel was killing the prophets of Yahweh. Power struggles between religious factions play right into my hand, you know? Elijah really put on a show there at Mount Carmel, though. He’s just damned lucky it stormed after he poured all of Meggido’s stored water supply on the sacrifice. There _was_ a severe drought on - for three years it hadn't rained.”

“I’d prefer to think that luck had nothing to do with it,” Aziraphale says primly whilst kneading a measure of ground barley, oil, honey, and water. He pats it to a thin round cake on the baking stone and cautiously places it into the oven. “I wasn’t there, anyway. I was still traveling through the Jezreel Valley on my way here. Enormous valley – wide enough for a battleground.” 

“I’m curious why that would be your first thought,” says Crowley, distracted by the smudge of flour on the side of Aziraphale’s nose. “I would have guessed you’d be thinking more about how to make the ground fruitful and multiply. Vineyards, perhaps?” Crowley grins and reaches out to brush the spot of flour from Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale flinches and backs away, leaving Crowley’s hand awkwardly suspended in mid-air. Aziraphale self-consciously turns away and Crowley drops his arm and busies himself by brushing wayward grains off the table into his palm. 

Aziraphale sighs. “I _do_ have some wine, and the code of hospitality requires that I offer you some. And perhaps some bread in a minute?” 

“That bread’s DONE,” snickers Crowley, watching the inside of the oven burst into flames. 

**Author's Note:**

> Bible reference is 1 Kings:18 & 19


End file.
